THE DESERTED NEST
DESERTED nest, that on the leafless treeWaves to and fro with every dreary blast,With none to shelter, none to care for thee,Thy day of pride and cheerfulness is past.Thy tiny walls are falling to decay,Thy cell is tenantless and tuneless now,The winter winds have rent the leaves away,And left thee hanging on the naked bough.But yet, deserted nest, there is a spell,E'en in thy loneliness, to touch the heart,For holy things within thee once did dwell,The type of joys departed now thou art.With what assiduous care thy framers wrought,With what delight they viewed the structure rise,And how, as each some tiny rafter brought,Pleasure and hope would sparkle in their eyes.Ah! who shall tell, when all the work was done,The rapturous pleasure that their labors crowned,The blissful moments Nature for them won,And bade them celebrate with joyous sound.A father's pride, a mother's anxious care,Her fluttered spirits, and his gentlest tone,All, all that wedded hearts so fondly share,To thee, deserted nest, were surely known.Then though thy walls be rent, and cold thy cell,And thoughtless crowds may hourly pass thee by,Where love and truth and tenderness did dwell,There's still attraction for the poet's eye.
DESERTED nest, that on the leafless treeWaves to and fro with every dreary blast,With none to shelter, none to care for thee,Thy day of pride and cheerfulness is past.Thy tiny walls are falling to decay,Thy cell is tenantless and tuneless now,The winter winds have rent the leaves away,And left thee hanging on the naked bough.But yet, deserted nest, there is a spell,E'en in thy loneliness, to touch the heart,For holy things within thee once did dwell,The type of joys departed now thou art.With what assiduous care thy framers wrought,With what delight they viewed the structure rise,And how, as each some tiny rafter brought,Pleasure and hope would sparkle in their eyes.Ah! who shall tell, when all the work was done,The rapturous pleasure that their labors crowned,The blissful moments Nature for them won,And bade them celebrate with joyous sound.A father's pride, a mother's anxious care,Her fluttered spirits, and his gentlest tone,All, all that wedded hearts so fondly share,To thee, deserted nest, were surely known.Then though thy walls be rent, and cold thy cell,And thoughtless crowds may hourly pass thee by,Where love and truth and tenderness did dwell,There's still attraction for the poet's eye.
DESERTED nest, that on the leafless treeWaves to and fro with every dreary blast,With none to shelter, none to care for thee,Thy day of pride and cheerfulness is past.
DESERTED nest, that on the leafless tree
Waves to and fro with every dreary blast,
With none to shelter, none to care for thee,
Thy day of pride and cheerfulness is past.
Thy tiny walls are falling to decay,Thy cell is tenantless and tuneless now,The winter winds have rent the leaves away,And left thee hanging on the naked bough.
Thy tiny walls are falling to decay,
Thy cell is tenantless and tuneless now,
The winter winds have rent the leaves away,
And left thee hanging on the naked bough.
But yet, deserted nest, there is a spell,E'en in thy loneliness, to touch the heart,For holy things within thee once did dwell,The type of joys departed now thou art.
But yet, deserted nest, there is a spell,
E'en in thy loneliness, to touch the heart,
For holy things within thee once did dwell,
The type of joys departed now thou art.
With what assiduous care thy framers wrought,With what delight they viewed the structure rise,And how, as each some tiny rafter brought,Pleasure and hope would sparkle in their eyes.
With what assiduous care thy framers wrought,
With what delight they viewed the structure rise,
And how, as each some tiny rafter brought,
Pleasure and hope would sparkle in their eyes.
Ah! who shall tell, when all the work was done,The rapturous pleasure that their labors crowned,The blissful moments Nature for them won,And bade them celebrate with joyous sound.
Ah! who shall tell, when all the work was done,
The rapturous pleasure that their labors crowned,
The blissful moments Nature for them won,
And bade them celebrate with joyous sound.
A father's pride, a mother's anxious care,Her fluttered spirits, and his gentlest tone,All, all that wedded hearts so fondly share,To thee, deserted nest, were surely known.
A father's pride, a mother's anxious care,
Her fluttered spirits, and his gentlest tone,
All, all that wedded hearts so fondly share,
To thee, deserted nest, were surely known.
Then though thy walls be rent, and cold thy cell,And thoughtless crowds may hourly pass thee by,Where love and truth and tenderness did dwell,There's still attraction for the poet's eye.
Then though thy walls be rent, and cold thy cell,
And thoughtless crowds may hourly pass thee by,
Where love and truth and tenderness did dwell,
There's still attraction for the poet's eye.